


The Universe May Forget About Us

by nintendoswitch



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Break Up, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 12:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendoswitch/pseuds/nintendoswitch
Summary: Five years ago they lived in a small apartment, with a green couch and a hole in the wall that looked out into the universe. Now, Chanyeol is alone, and as he goes through the darkest time of his life, he thinks back on Baekhyun and what once was."One day I will love you for everyone to see."





	1. - i.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This has not been beta read, and english isnt my first language so I apologize for any mistakes you might find
> 
> also im sorry for writing this
> 
> my friend yelled at me for writing this fic..

_Now I_ _understand_ _what you tried to say to me_

_And how you suffered for your sanity_

_How you tried to set them free_

_They would not listen, they did not know how_

_Perhaps they’ll listen no_ _w_

_Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together?_

Park Chanyeol has a good life. He has a good, well-paying job, he's married to a beautiful woman, and they own a house in the Busan suburbs. It's too small, but it's cute. It's got two bedrooms, an open kitchen, and a bathroom, but the small garden at the back of the house is Chanyeol's favorite place. His wife, Soojung, is growing her own spices and herbs, so it's always smells good during summer. There's even a tomato plant that Chanyeol helped her put in its big clay pot. 

There's something about the placement of the houses and the trees surrounding, that makes the garden quiet. As if shielded from the noises from traffic and the rest of the world. 

And quiet is just what Chanyeol needs right now. 

Soojung has left to stay with her sister tonight. Guess complete silence is not what a woman wants when she tells her husband that she's pregnant. She stormed out crying, and Chanyeol just stood there, feeling a panic attack rising in his chest as his breathing came faster and faster. 

He's going to be a father. 

Once he comes back to himself, the front door has already slammed shut and her car has left the driveway. Chanyeol goes outside, sits down on a chair in their little garden that smells like basil and rosemary. He feels numb. The tears start falling without him realizing, and he tries to wipe them away but they keep coming faster until he sits sobbing into the sleeves of his hoodie. 

The thought of  _marriage_  had been terrifying. Chanyeol had been shaking as he stood in front of the altar, as his parents looked at him, so proud. When Soojung had walked down the aisle, he cried. He couldn't help it. It felt like every step she took was one step closer to his life ending. 

But having a  _baby_ _?_  Just the thought of it drowns him in anxiety for the future. He's stuck now. He's truly stuck. In a life he doesn't want.

Park Chanyeol has a good life. A good job, a beautiful wife, they own a house, and his parents are proud of him. They'll receive the news that they're going to be grandparents soon, and they'll probably all laugh about how Chanyeol was  _so_ _shocked_  when he found out the news that he couldn't speak. 

He pretends to be what everyone around him redeems normal, the way everyone else wants him to be. But there is still a glint of hatred in his father's eyes, a disappointment behind the loving smile of his mother. There is something tired and worn out in the way Chanyeol holds himself, because a gay man pretending to be someone he isn't, has been nothing but drained slowly by the cruel hand that the universe has given him. 

" _Be grateful,_ _Chanyeol_ _, we found you a beautiful woman to marry._ "

Soojung is beautiful, by God she is so beautiful. And smart. Kind. She loves cooking, so every Sunday there is a new dish for Chanyeol to try. She loves listening when Chanyeol plays on his guitar. She's funny, but shy in public places. 

Had Chanyeol been anyone else he could have loved her like she deserves. But, alas, his heart belongs to someone else, someone long gone. 

Byun Baekhyun

Chanyeol had willed himself years ago to not think of the man he left in Seoul. He tries not to think about his time in Seoul period. He left  _so much_  when he moved back to Busan. His education, his job at the movie theater, the professor who was so sure he would be someone big one day, the small apartment he shared with Baekhyun, and the last people he believes will ever love him completely. Soojung loves him, but not all of him.

Not like Baekhyun did. 

\---------------------

It's cold in the apartment when Chanyeol gets home from his shift at the movie theater. 

The heater is broken again. 

They've called the landlord, and the old man had promised it would be fixed soon, but  _soon_  could be anything between a day or two weeks. He threw off his boots and hung his thick coat on the hanger before walking into the living room that doubled as a bedroom. The futon on the floor was empty, sheets still made like they had done them in the morning, but the green couch had been pushed away from the wall. Chanyeol smiled, knowingly, and made his way around it, where Baekhyun sat cross-legged on the floor, with a cold cup of noodles next to him. His favorite blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. He had a little, blue piece of paper in his hands that he pressed to his lips, before folding it and pushing it through a crack in the gray colored wall.

When they moved in, they discovered a crack in the wall that the landlord had forgotten to mention to them. Just some inches above the floor. It wasn’t huge, and obviously not that noticeable, but it had annoyed Chanyeol to no end that they now had  _another_  thing to put on the list of things they needed to save money for. But Baekhyun decided that it wasn’t a normal broken hole in the wall; the crack was a glimpse into the universe, so instead of getting it fixed, they had to fill it with wishes, and the universe would take care of it. 

Now, a year later, their peephole into the universe was safely tucked away behind the green hand-me-down sofa, only to come out when one needed to make a wish.

Chanyeol crouched down behind Baekhyun and curled his arms around the other man's shoulder. 

"What'd you wish for?" Chanyeol asked, pressing a kiss to Baekhyun's cheek. Baekhyun giggled and turned his head to the taller.

"I can't tell you, it won't come true."

"Whisper it to me, so the universe can't hear"

Baekhyun turned around in Chanyeol's arms, climbing into his lap, and leaned in close with a hand cupped around his mouth. 

"I wrote that I'm selfish, because I love you and I want to keep you with me, always." He whispered. "So, I wished for us to always be together. I made a wish that you'll love me forever."

Chanyeol leaned back and looked at the beautiful man in front of him. The droopy eyes were shining with sincerity. 

"I will. I will always love you." He said in a serious tone, but his heart was dancing in his chest. He cupped Baekhyun's cheek in his hand and kissed his rosy lips. “Tell me you’ll always love me too.” He whispered.

“Always.”

He carried him to the futon on the bed, where they got undressed and they made love. Chanyeol took Baekhyun from behind. Baekhyun bit on a pillow so their neighbors wouldn’t hear him moaning and sobbing in pleasure, as Chanyeol pounded into him at a feverish pace. Baekhyun felt so warm around his cock, his hips so smooth and soft under his fingertips. 

He draped himself over Baekhyun’s back, curling his arms around his torso. Baekhyun’s quivering knees buckled under the weight and they slipped out under him. Chanyeol used his knees to spread Baekhyun’s legs even further, and Baekhyun whined loudly into the pillow as Chanyeol fucked into him slowly now, his hard cock slamming into him hard.

“Cha-Chanyeol, I’m gonna cum.” Baekhyun wailed. 

“Do it, baby. Cum for me.” He drove into him harder until Baekhyun came undone underneath him. Chanyeol picked up his pace, chasing his own orgasm. Baekhyun was writhing under him, growing louder and louder.

“Chanyeol,  _oh my god_! Fu-uck.” He wailed as his sore ass was impaled on Chanyeol’s dick over and over again.

“I love your dick, baby, you fill me so good.”  Baekhyun slurred. “Come inside me, Chanyeol,  _please_.” 

“Fuck, Baekhyun you feel so good.” A few more thrusts were all Chanyeol could muster before he spilled inside Baekhyun’s hot body. He muffled his moan in Baekhyun’s neck. 

They stayed like this for a moment, catching their breaths. Chanyeol started pulling out, but Baekhyun stopped him. 

“Baby, stay inside me. I wanna feel you a little longer.” 

“Baek I gotta clean you up, you’ll feel gross in the morning.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I just wanna feel you.”

Chanyeol had never really been able to deny Baekhyun of what he wanted, so he carefully lied them on their sides, still connected so deeply.

How lucky Chanyeol was to lie here, on a soft mattress, in a cold apartment, with the man he loves more than breathing, more than the sun and the sky, in front of a small crack in the wall that contained the whole universe just for them.

\---------------

Baekhyun must have gotten his wish, but the universe punished Chanyeol for telling him to spoil it. So Chanyeol is sitting here, five years later, still loving Baekhyun with his whole being, only now they are hundreds of miles apart.

Their friend, Jongdae, used to send him updates on Baekhyun after Chanyeol moved back to Busan. He told him when Baekhyun couldn’t afford University tuition anymore and had to leave with only a year left until graduation. Chanyeol still wonder why the school didn’t do anything to help him. He was their singing protegee. So naturally talented, and teachers used to love showing him off at school events and competitions. 

Maybe it had something to do with his sexuality. 

Chanyeol had gotten a long phone call from Jongdae when Baekhyun had moved out of the apartment and into a place closer to work, and Jongdae  _hated_  Baekhyun’s workplace. Bartender in a greasy, disgusting bar in a sleazy part of the big city. 

Last Chanyeol had heard, Baekhyun had met someone, a dancer named Jongin. He had asked him to move to the US with him. Apparently Jongin had some relative there, who they could stay with. Jongin wanted to whisk Baekhyun away from his pain, to a better life. Something Chanyeol could only dream of now. 

That was two years ago.

He wonders if they did it.

He has a cellphone number scribbled down in a notebook that he looks at from time to time so he won’t forget it. 

Baekhyun’s number. 

Chanyeol needs to remember it, in case he ever finds the courage to dial it. It’s now or never. He’s going to have a kid, and he wants to hear Baekhyun’s voice one last time, if only to confirm that he has moved on for good 

Then maybe Chanyeol can do it to. 

He dials the number on his phone and holds it to his ear. 

_‘We are sorry. You have reached a number that is disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.’_

It was a silly thought. That Baekhyun would have the same number as when they went to University. But there was a part of Chanyeol that wanted to believe that the world had stopped spinning outside of his house. That were he to leave Soojung tonight he would be thrown right back where he left his old life. He felt as if he left this house, this street he lived on, the world would go back to how it was when he lived in Seoul. He would still work with Kyungsoo at the movie theater, he would enroll his classes at Uni again, Baekhyun would too. The apartment with the little crack in the wall would still be theirs. The hand-me-down couch, the futon on the floor. Baekhyun’s collection of weird mugs, and the endless supply of tealights they kept in the cabinet for when the heater broke. 

Jongdae might have Baekhyun’s number. Maybe he had an address, so Chanyeol could call and they would talk and cry. Chanyeol would blur that he still loves him, and Baekhyun would sob and tell Chanyeol that he loves him too. That he never stopped. 

He opens the messaging app and types out a text to Jongdae.

_‘Do you have Baekhyun’s nr?’_

Then he sends another one. 

_‘Do you know where I can find him?’_

Jongdae would help him, he would understand. He’s always wanted them to be together. 

\-------------

Chanyeol had tried not thinking about what they had done, but it had been the only thing he could think of. Those soft, rosy lips pressed against his. How Baekhyun tasted rum and coke when his tongue pressed into Chanyeol’s mouth. The gasps, the tiny moans, the clumsy clashing of their teeth, but they had not cared. Too gone in their lust, too busy letting their hands travel over their bodies. Baekhyun had sat on the kitchen counter, Chanyeol stood between his spread thighs. It had been exhilarating gripping onto Baekhyun’s lithe body, having the other kiss him with such vehemence.

Byun Baekhyun wasn’t the first boy Chanyeol had kissed. He had kissed the Chinese exchange student Wu Yifan behind the auditorium in seventh grade.  Chanyeol had been dating Kim Ha-Yoon at the time. A short girl with two moles under her left eye that Chanyeol thought looked like little stars. He had felt so guilty about kissing Yifan that he broke up with her. In twelfth grade he lost his virginity to his friend Zico when they were dog sitting at Zico’s aunt’s house while she was away on a business trip. They had done it on her bed and Zico had been weirdly into that.

Chanyeol had kissed plenty of guys, but it had never been like this. So out in the open, in the middle of their friend’s kitchen, at a party where anyone could walk in and no one would care. All the other times had to be hidden, but not here. Not with Baekhyun. 

“Yeol,” Baekhyun moaned into his ear. Chanyeol couldn’t get enough of that sound. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” 

Baekhyun whined at him to take him home, to fuck him and do whatever he wanted with him. But Chanyeol couldn’t. Not with Baekhyun so drunk and Chanyeol so on the verge of falling in love with him just from kissing him. Baekhyun passed out the second Chanyeol put him on Jongdae’s bed. He tucked him in, and kissed him softly one last time. 

Outside, Jondgae was waiting with a red cup of whatever could get him drunk the fastest in his hand, and a knowing smirk on his face. 

“You know,” He started. “Most guys would have just taken him to their place and fucked him.” He said.

“Maybe I’m not like most guys.” Chanyeol retorted. Maybe he thought Baekhyun deserved, not the world, but a piece of it. 

“You should ask him out when you’re both sober.” Jongdae raised his cup to him and took a sip as he turned to leave. But before he did, he looked back at Chanyeol over his shoulder. “He likes you too, you know.” He winked, and walked into the crowd of people dancing. 

Chanyeol asked Baekhyun out two weeks later. They kept stealing kisses from each other after that party at Jongdae’s. Chanyeol found himself reaching for Baekhyun’s hand as they walked to their lectures, and Baekhyun would wait for him outside the movie theater when his shifts ended, and they would go eat cheap ramyeon. Sometimes Baekhyun would go back with him to his dorm room, and they’d fall asleep in his bed, and Chanyeol would wake up with Baekhyun pressed up against him. 

Chanyeol wanted more. 

He wanted to be brave. 

So, he took Baekhyun out a few times. To an arcade, because Baekhyun loves games, and they won each other stuffed animals that they named after their friends. On Thursdays, art galleries offered free food and drinks for students, and Chanyeol brought him to one. They ate the mini sandwiches and drank the cheap wine, as they pretended to be interested in the modern art exhibition. To every piece Baekhyun asked weird questions to the people around them, and soon they got kicked out because they were laughing so much. On the way out they stole new cups of cheap red wine, which they drank, sitting on the curb, watching the people walking in and out of the restaurant on the other side of the road. Minseok had recommended a barbeque place that had a good student discount, where they went one evening, stuffing their faces with bulgogi, and galbi, with kimchi and many bottles of soju. 

They told their friends when they all got together at a bar on a Friday night, after a long week of University lectures. Telling people, saying that they were boyfriends out loud, where everyone could hear, had been like a huge boulder lifting off Chanyeol’s shoulders. 

It was freeing.

They all cheered and ordered in more drinks. No one judged, or looked at them weirdly. Chanyeol was happy. 

Jongdae nudged him in his side. He smirked. 

“I told you so, Yeol.”


	2. -ii.

The vibration from his phone in his pocket jolts Chanyeol in his chair. He quickly pulled it out. 

Jongdae had replied. 

_‘It’s over_ _Chanyeol_ _’_

There are little dots as Jongdae keeps typing.

_‘You made your choice and you left him.’_

The phone vibrates again in Chanyeol’s hand as it receives another message. 

_‘I’m sorry I sent you messages about him. I shouldn’t have done that. You need to move on.’_

There is a surge of anger that seethes through Chanyeol. From the tips of his fingers, through his arms, down his legs and explodes somewhere in the middle. He stands up and throws the phone down by the potted chili fruits, and mint. If the screen breaks, he doesn’t care. Tears gather in the corner of his eyes, and Chanyeol doesn’t know if they are sad tears, or if they’re threatening to start spilling down his cheeks because he’s angry. 

_It’s over,_ _Chanyeol_

Jondae can’t even give him the time of the day to explain, can’t even give him  _something_. Who is Jongdae to judge him like this?

Chanyeol scoffs. 

Jongdae is nothing. No one. His opinion shouldn’t matter to him. They’re not friends. While Chanyeol had to suffer all alone, none of his friends had thought of him.

Chanyeol is pacing back and forth now. He kicks a chair over with a choked yell leaving his lips. Why is he never allowed to make decisions about his life? Why does he have to live in this house when a suburban life is what Soojung wants? Why did he have to get married to a woman because of what his parents wanted? Why should he not talk to Baekhyun just because Jongdae tells him not to? 

Why can’t he ever get what  _he_  wants?

He left so much behind for this house near the beach; his friends, his love, his dreams, because he was scared, and everyone decided to take advantage of that. 

_Why is he the coward?_

All he has ever done was try to survive, yet the universe treats him so cruel.

He suffocates a scream in the back of his throat. It settles into a need to break every pot in the garden. To ruin Soojung’s love for these plants, like she and everyone else ruined his love for Baekhyun. 

Except-

She didn’t. No one did. 

Chanyeol did. 

The anger fades as quickly as it hit him, and he can feel the ache in his broken, beaten heart welcoming him back to his reality like an old friend. He can feel his old, worn out soul holding itself together by the seams. 

Chanyeol sits down, tired and defeated. 

Jongdae is right. 

Chanyeol was the one who left Baekhyun.  He hurt him, broke his heart, and left him behind. 

 

\------------

Luhan is dead. 

They just got the phone call. Baekhyun is crying on the old, green couch, and Chanyeol has locked himself in the bathroom. He’s sitting on the tiled floor, back pressed against the door. His hands are pressed over his mouth, so that Baekhyun won’t hear his panicked sobbing. It’s to suffocate the ragged breaths that come faster, and faster. And maybe it’s to stop the shaking. His whole body is so tense, and he can’t seem to make it stop shaking like a leaf. 

Luhan is dead. He had been beaten to death when walking home alone from work. 

Eyewitnesses had said it was three men. 

Three big men beating little Luhan to death. 

Hitting and kicking until Luhan couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Until he choked on his own blood, and they left him broken on the street. 

A hate crime, they said. 

They killed Chanyeol’s friend, a brother, a son, a lover, a person; because he was gay. Like Chanyeol. Like Baekhyun. 

Sweet Luhan. Whose eyes were kind, and hands were warm. Who always comforted others, who loved so much. But none of that had mattered to those three men. 

It shook Chanyeol right back to reality. He had been stuck in this bubble since he moved to Seoul. Now he remembered why all those other kisses had to be hidden, why his mother had cried herself to sleep the day Chanyeol came out to his family. It explained why he never held Baekhyun’s hand when they walked outside. 

All his fears catapulted back into him, enveloping him like a dark vail. For days after the phone call Chanyeol walked around cautious, and on edge. The attack had been so close to the movie theater, just up the street. So, every time Chanyeol walked to or from work, he was sure he could smell the blood. He was sure the men were still there, lurking, and waiting for the next faggot to walk by so they could kill them too. 

Baekhyun had suggested he could accompany him, so he wouldn’t have to walk alone, but Chanyeol refused. Instead he put distance between them when they walked outside, made sure their relationship stayed confined between the walls of their apartment, with only the universe peeking at them through the crack in the wall. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Baekhyun asks him one day. There is uncertainty and hurt in his eyes, and Chanyeol can’t handle it, so he tells him everything. His fears and paranoia tumble out of his mouth like an avalanche. Baekhyun holds him as he cries. Chanyeol presses his face into Baekhyun’s chest and listens as his lover whispers comforting words into his ear. 

“It won’t be forever, I swear. One day I’ll love you for everyone to see.” Chanyeol promised, and gave Baekhyun a desperate kiss. 

But it didn’t get better. 

A new paranoia seemed to grow like a weed in his mind. Could people  _see_  that he is gay? Does he sound gay, like people joke that Minseok and Baekhyun do? Or does his clothes give it away? Or the way he walks? The way he touches his friends? 

He quits his job at the theater one day, in the heat of anxiety. He couldn’t take it anymore. Kyungsoo had given him a worried look as he collected the few things he kept there. 

Baekhyun had been furious. 

“Why didn’t you talk to me first?!” He had yelled. 

“Baek...” Chanyeol tried, sitting on the rugged couch. Baekhyun was standing in front of him. Despite his petite form he seemed to tower over Chanyeol at the moment. 

“Don’t! I have to take extra shifts now. How the hell am I going to make time for studying?” 

“You don’t have to take extra shifts, I’ll figure something out.” 

“Like what?” Baekhyun stares at him. “Are you just going to magically get a job? Who is hiring, Chanyeol? How are we going to pay our bills? Tuition? Cause that’s not happening on my salary alone. You didn’t have a plan, you didn’t think, you-” 

“I’m fucking  _scared_!” Chanyeol yelled, and stood up so fast Baekhyun flinched back. But he quickly gathered himself. 

“You think I don’t know that?” 

“I couldn’t go back there, Baek! Maybe it doesn’t bother Kyungsoo, but Luhan  _died_  there, and I can’t just move on from it, alright?”

Baekhyun looked down at his gray socks. 

“Maybe it doesn’t bother Kyungsoo because he’s not scared of himself...” He mumbled.

“What did you say?” 

Baekhyun looked up at him. There was fire in his eyes. 

“You’re scared of who you are, and you always have been! Even before all this happened you wouldn’t let me hold your hand unless you’d make sure no one was around. So, don’t you  _dare_  blame this on Luhan! This is about you and your internal homophobia,  _not_  about Luhan!” 

“I did that because I didn’t want us to get hurt! What the fuck would I have done if some asshole hurt you because of me?” 

“So you’re pushing me away to protect me?!” Baekhyun yelled.

“I’m not pushing you away! I told you I just need time!” This was getting bad. Baekhyun wouldn’t listen, and Chanyeol was getting angry. 

“I’ve given you time. But this is reckless, Chanyeol! You’re letting them win! You’re letting your fears control you.” 

“I don’t fucking know what else to do!” Chanyeol screamed in Baekhyun’s face. 

He can tell Baekhyun wants to yell back, but he won’t. Maybe he’s more level headed, maybe he doesn’t let his feelings take over. But Chanyeol does, because he doesn’t know what else to do with them. 

All he can see are things he can lose, and he’s so afraid of losing. 

If only he could tell that to Baekhyun. If only he could word his feelings like they really are instead of playing things off as if they’ll be okay any minute, when it’s so clear they’re only going off the deep end.

“Can you just for once try to put yourself in my shoes? Just try to understand how I feel! I’m not like you, none of this has ever been easy for me!” Baekhyun pushes him back furiously, and Chanyeol stumbles back, realizing the weight of his words. 

“Easy?!” Baekhyun pushes him again. “You think getting kicked out on the street the minute I turned eighteen was easy? I know your parents are shit, but at least they still see you as their son.” Baekhyun spits out at him through gritted teeth. He’s crying now, hot angry tears that he wipes away as he turns and walks to the door.

“I’ve always had your back, and I have never judged you, but this is too much. I’m leaving.” 

“Fine! Fucking leave! Do whatever the fuck you want, it’s what you always do anyway!” 

“You’re a coward, Park Chanyeol!” 

And the door slams shut. 

Chanyeol sits down on the green couch, defeated, feeling like he’s already lost. 

Three hours go by, and his phone chimes. Chanyeol reaches for it in a hurry, hoping it’s Baekhyun, who has yet to come home.

But it wasn’t Baekhyun. 

It was his father. 

_‘_ _Chanyeol_ _. It’s time to come home. Your mother and I have_ _found_ _a girl we want you to meet. This is your last chance. Either you come home now or not at all._

_Dad.’_

Chanyeol dropped the phone and buried his face in his hands. 

Everything is falling apart.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Baekhyun came home at eleven the next morning, to two packed suitcases standing in the hall, and Chanyeol sitting at the kitchen table.

"Chanyeol? Why are your bags packed?" Chanyeol hated his voice like this, so sad, and confused. He could hear that he had been crying. "Channie?" Baekhyun stepped into the kitchen. Chanyeol looked up.

"Where have you been?" He asked, gently. He stood up and walked up to his boyfriend.

"Jongdae's.. I'm sorry, Chanyeol!" Baekhyun threw his arms around his lover’s neck. "You're not a coward, Chanyeol! I'm sorry if I ever pressured you, I know you're scared, but I'm willing to wait, as long as you need."

Chanyeol put his hands on Baekhyun's shoulders and pushed him gently off him.

"Baekhyun-,"

"You're not gonna leave, right? Cause of one fight? What I said wasn't right, and I know that, and I'm really, really sorry-"

"Baek. Stop."  Baekhyun closed his mouth and stared at him. 

"I'm going home." Chanyeol could barely stand it to watch as Baekhyun's eyes started watering. "My parents found a woman and they want us to get married. I have to go home or they'll cut me off, they'll disown me. I'm not brave like you, Baekhyun. I can't live like that."

"But you  _are_  brave! You have a life here, with me, you don't need them! You don’t have to come out! Just stay here, we can figure something out! I’ll take extra shifts, and you can like, do freelance work or something, it’ll be okay, we’re always okay!"

Chanyeol cupped Baekhyun's cheeks and dried the tears that fell with his thumbs. 

"I need to go. I'm so sorry." 

“You’re breaking my heart” Baekhyun sobbed meagerly, and Chanyeol pulled him to his chest. 

“Mine is already broken.” He whispered into his hair. 

“ _Please_ , please don’t go. I love you so much.” Baekhyun kept sobbing into his chest, rambling words that felt like knives stabbing into Chanyeol’s whole person. 

“I’m so sorry.” Chanyeol wept. He buried his face in Baekhyun’s hair. He wanted to remember the soft strands of brown hair against his skin, the scent of his body. The peppermint shampoo, mixed with the soft laundry detergent, and his sandalwood perfume. 

The smell of Baekhyun meant love, and home, and warmth. 

“Chanyeol.” Baekhyun took a step back and looked up at Chanyeol. His cheeks were wet with tears. “If you walk out of that door, this is the last time you’ll ever see me.”

Chanyeol could swear his heart stopped. “Baekhyun.” His voice wobbled. Never see the man he loves again? How could he survive?

“No, Chanyeol. I love you, but I could not watch you love someone else, it would kill me.” 

“I could never love anyone else.” Chanyeol cried. His lips quivering as he spoke.

“But you’ll have to pretend. You’ll have to kiss her, and hold her. You’ll have to pretend you love her the way I want you to love me.”

Chanyeol’s shoulders sagged in defeat. Baekhyun was right. Even if Baekhyun stayed in his life, they could never be the same. They would have to pretend they’ve never loved each other, pretend they don’t hold the other’s heart in their hand. 

He cupped Baekhyun’s face in his hands, caressing the apples of his cheeks.  He’s so, so beautiful. Chanyeol leaned in, he just wanted one last kiss, but Baekhyun turned his head away. 

“Stop.” He whispered. He slowly reached up to grab Chanyeol’s hands. He held them for a moment, lacing their fingers together before pulling them from his face, letting them fall back to rest by Chanyeol’s sides once again. 

Chanyeol’s cellphone rang in his pocket. It was time. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, that could ease the pain for both of them, but Baekhyun only shook his head. 

“Goodbye...Park Chanyeol.” 

He stepped away so Chanyeol could grab his suitcases. By the door he turned back. 

“Goodbye, Byun Baekhyun.” 

Baekhyun wasn’t looking at him when he walked through the door, he didn’t look at him when he closed it. He didn’t run after him when he walked down the stairs, he didn’t run after the taxi that took him to the train station. He didn’t stop the train, or run through all the cars, looking for Chanyeol. The only one waiting at the station for him was his father, and no one called that night. 

\------------

It was dark outside now. Chanyeol hadn’t even noticed the sun going down. The cicadas were crying in the grass. The faint pink glow left by the descending sun was slowly getting drowned by the dark blue night sky. 

Chanyeol felt lonely.

He thought he had gotten used to that feeling by now, as Soojung was the only person he really spent time with anymore outside of work, and dinner with his parents. But as it turns out, when he allows himself to feel, the loneliness is still there. 

Like a tumor. 

A parasite eating him from the inside, growing bigger and stronger, and Chanyeol just has to ignore it until there’s nothing left of him. 

Chanyeol closed his eyes. 

A lone tear fell down his cheek. It was all he could muster now. He didn’t have any strength to do anything else but sit here and breathe in the scent of rosemary and basil. To listen to the rustling of the trees as their leaves danced in the cool breeze. The fluttering of a bird’s wings as it set off into flight. 

A car pulled up in their driveway. The engine shut off. He listened as the front door was unlocked, as it opened and closed. Footsteps came closer to the backdoor, and Soojung then took tentative steps out onto their small little garden that she cared for so much. 

She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Chanyeol?”

He opened his eyes, but kept looking out into the night. “I didn’t think you’d be home tonight.”

Soojung sat down in the second chair. She combed a strand of her brown hair behind her ear, like she always does when she’s nervous. 

“I didn’t want to, but Sooyeon said I should talk to you, that we need to figure something out and I agree. I want to give you a chance to explain.” 

“There’s nothing to explain, babe.” Chanyeol looked at her. “I got shocked, but I’m here. We’re going to do this.”

There was a pause. A moment of thick silence as Soojung stared at him with an unreadable look in her eyes. 

“I can pretend I didn’t see how terrified you looked when I told you. But I’ll be damned before I bring a child into this world that has to live with a father that doesn’t love them.”

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust his voice anymore. But Soojung has more to say. 

“I knew you didn’t love me when we got married, but I had hoped that you’d learned to by now. I guess that’s not possible.”

“Soojung I do love you!” 

“There you go again, looking so scared. What are you scared of Chanyeol?”

“Nothing! I promise, I will love you and our baby with everything in me. You won’t go through this alone. I’m here, I’m  _your_  husband.” 

“But you don’t want to be.” She said, calmly. “We could get a divorce, I’ll move out and if you don’t want custody of the baby, that’s fine. I can take care of them myself.”

“No!” Chanyeol scrambled out of the chair and dropped down on his knees in front of Soojung. “Don’t leave me, please! I couldn’t handle losing you too!” He cried. “You’re the only one I have left.” He buried his face in her lap and sobbed. 

It took a moment, but soon her gentle fingers combed through his hair. 

“You’re not ready.” She whispered. 

“I won’t leave you, Park Chanyeol.”

She kept stroking his hair as he cried into her jeans. 

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me what you fear.” 

Chanyeol sniffed, and he whispered. 

“Only the universe knows.”

_Now I think I know what you tried to say to me_

_And how you suffered for your sanity_

_And h_ _ow you tried to set them free_

_They would not_ _listen_ _, t_ _h_ _ey’re_ _not listening still_

_Perhaps they never will – Don McLean_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say one last thingfor anyone reading this struggling with their sexuality; This fic is in no way, shape or form, against any person in the LGBTQ+ community who isn't out. This is just a work of fiction, depicting a closeted gay man who has been forced to repress his sexuality.
> 
> Please never feel like your sexuality isn't valid just because you're not out of the closet. You are still part of the community. If you feel like coming out would threaten your safety, or even if you just don't feel comfortable to come out yet, you don't have to. 
> 
> You are special, you are loved, and you are wonderful! 
> 
>  
> 
> song: Don McLean - Vincent

**Author's Note:**

> The second part will be posted tomorrow!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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